


Everything But the Kitchen Counter

by ohjustdisarmalready



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: 2am Bonding, Cooking, Cooking Lessons, Fluff, Gen, allusions to eating disorders, just bros bein bros and an umbrella, vague implications of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 03:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13628079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohjustdisarmalready/pseuds/ohjustdisarmalready
Summary: Taako has forgotten his umbrella and it won't let Magnus sleep.





	Everything But the Kitchen Counter

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally meant to be a series of scenes of Umbralup insisting on following Taako around even when he definitely doesn't need magic, but I managed one and it started getting away with me. Please enjoy these boys beginning to bond.
> 
> Takes place early on in their time at the BoB, probably between Moonlighting and Rockport.

Taako cooks, sometimes. If the middle of the night, especially. He acts funny about it but he’ll do it anyway, and the next morning the Bureau’s kitchen will smell fantastic and completely unlike whatever’s being served that day.

There have been some post-its from HR asking for whoever is using the kitchen to please fill out a requisition form, but Taako claims he can’t read and Magnus isn’t gonna rat him out.

On one such night, Magnus hears Taako leap from his bunk and land nimbly on the floor, ghosting out of the room like some kind of elven ninja. He always does such cool stuff when they’re not on a mission.

Then again, when they are on a mission, he does magic. That’s pretty cool.

Magnus drifts near sleep, thinking about the sparks and whirlwinds and impossible things magic can do. It’s really super cool. He kind of wishes he’d learned some, but the sheer number of leatherbound tomes holding up dirty dishes in Taako’s corner of the room is very intimidating.

Still, maybe if he buttered him up some, Taako might teach him a cantrip? Once he stopped laughing his ass off.

Maybe better not to ask.

He should sleep. It’s late.

Magnus’s stomach growls.

There’s an idea. He’s never seen what happens to the food Taako makes at night. Technically he doesn’t even have proof that it’s Taako hijacking the kitchens, except that the good smells and HR notes happen to exactly coincide with Taako’s nightly disappearances, and also Taako is an amazing chef.

He really makes food that tastes like _home_ , is the thing. Even when Magnus had been in Raven’s Roost, his—his childhood home (right?), this elf had whizzed in and made meatloaf that almost made him cry. Taako’s food felt like a warm hug from someone who loved you.

Maybe Magnus can get in on some of that.

Mind made up, he stands and stretches, and gets his shirt halfway on when something solid hits him.

He shrugs his shirt the rest of the way over his head.

Taako’s umbrella sits on the floor.

“Must’ve…forgot it?” he murmurs to himself. He doesn’t think he’s seen Taako without the staff since they grabbed it off those bones.

It sits on the floor.

Magnus feels watched. Also, judged.

“I’m really hungry, though,” he says. He’s explaining himself to an umbrella. “If I leave the room without a shirt on the Director’s gonna give me the _look_.”

It stays still, on the floor, because it’s an umbrella. He probably knocked it off Taako’s bunk changing shirts. It’s not watching him.

Magnus shakes his head. The kitchen is pretty far away. He should probably put on some real pants in case he runs into someone. Also, Taako’s a stickler for looking priomed and groomed. What if he doesn’t let Magnus eat his delicious, very good food because he’s not wearing pants? Not worth it.

He changes pants behind his bunk, which is ridiculous. The umbrella is definitely not staring at him. It doesn’t even have eyes.

It rolls over and hits his foot as he passes, and Magnus nearly screams.

“What do you _want_ from me?” he hisses. “Taako forgot you! He’s not here!”

It doesn’t move again. Did he imagine that? He must have, like kicked it, or something, right?

He squints suspiciously at Merle’s bunk, but he’s snoring loudly and when he fakes sleep he forgets to do that. Robbie is sleeping the sleep of the deeply inebriated.

Magnus pokes the umbrella.

It doesn’t react, because it’s _not looking at him_.

“I’m just gonna, I’m gonna bring you to Taako, okay? I’ll tell him he forgot you and maybe we can get some food out of him?” he asks it, gingerly picking it up. It doesn’t feel like it’s judging him anymore, anyway. It also doesn't fling him across the room. All good things.

It swings to hit his legs as he walks, like a cat getting all in the way of your feet. Magnus has never had the experience of being an errand-boy for an umbrella before, but he is beginning to think that’s going to change. He hopes the Director doesn’t mind his sudden career swap.

He was right, though. Once he gets to the kitchen he hears off-key humming with a few mumbled words, and he smells something delicious. Some sort of pasta dish? Or a good rice?

The umbrella swings a little harder. That can’t possibly be a normal umbrella swing, can it? But then again, what does Magnus know about umbrellas? He always forgets his, too.

“We’re getting there! I wanna see what he’s making,” he whispers to it, easing the door open.

The smell buffets him, surrounding him with a half-forgotten sense memory of a warm kitchen filled with laughter and the color red.

Huh. Julia had always preferred yellow. Must have been Fantasy Boy Scouts?

A crisp sizzle fills the air and Taako continues to half-sing absentmindedly as he spins through the room, preparing this, chopping that, flipping some sort of vegetable creation in a big, round pan. His hat is sitting on the counter, and all of his magic items must have been left in their room, but he looks entranced by the movement. He’s singing in Elvish, some nonsense song about a cat and the moon.

Magnus thinks he remembers this song. Probably Fantasy Boy Scouts again. It had really given him a very specific knowledge of pieced-together scraps of elven culture, and ever since no one seems to agree with what he’s sure he learned.

“Onions, babe, I’m starving here,” Taako says absentmindedly. Magnus looks at the umbrella for direction.

It hangs off his arm smugly. It has its wizard in sight and it’s happy now.

Magnus scowls. _You’re not very helpful_ , he thinks at it. He's not talking to an umbrella in front of his very cool magic teammate.

Well, nothing for it. Magnus grabs the cutting board with neatly diced onions on it.

“Where do you want ‘em?” he asks, inching towards the stove. It looks like stir fry, now that he’s up close.

Taako’s ear flicks back to him, and his humming stops. There’s a split second of absolute stillness before he whips around damn near leaping on to the counter and splashing himself in the face with sauce.

“Holy shit!” Taako starts to yell, but his voice breaks and it comes out as a whisper.

“Whoa, whoa whoa whoa, it’s me!” Magic sparks around Taako and Magnus holds the cutting board out placatingly, but also, it has a knife on it and that maybe isn’t very placating, he is realizing just now.

Taako’s hands are also taken up with his stirring bowl, holding his spoon in two fingers and looking very much caught out. He is also beginning to drip sauce out of his hair, which seems to have gotten the worst of it.

“Well uh, fuck,” he says. “If you wanted a show you shoulda told me beforehand, I coulda sold tickets.”

He is still backed up far against the counter, clutching his bowl with white-knuckled fingers, eyes too wide and darting past Magnus. Magnus grabs the knife to keep it from sliding off the cutting board.

The bowl, the sauce, and a good deal of the counter around Taako turn into fresh, still-bleeding…steak. Please let that be steak. Taako dives past him and he feels a tug on the umbra staff, but he’s startled and holds on to it instinctively.

Taako hesitates warily between Magnus and the door. He glances at his hat. At the staff. At Magnus.

Before he can make a decision, Magnus tosses him the umbrella.

“You, uh, you forgot this in the dorm. In case you need…your umbrella…inside. For cooking,” he says lamely. Why did he even bring that? Now he has a meat counter bleeding behind him and he looks stupid in front of his smart wizard friend.

“…thanks,” Taako says. He holds the umbrella in both hands. “I, uh. I’ll, um, leave you to it. Taako’s got—got shit to do. On the moon. Where we live.”

He smooths down his hair and hooks the umbrella around his arm securely. It presses into his side.

Magnus feels like he might have wanged this one up a little.

Well, tits.

“Can I eat your stir-fry?” he asks. He’s not sure how he thinks that’ll help. Taako’s a chef, right? He must like feeding people. Right?

“I, I. No? It’s uh, it’s—holy shit it’s burning,” Taako blurts, pushing past him to take the pan off the fire. It is sort of smoking a little bit.

The counter is still made of meat. There’s a sad little meat bowl on the ground with a dusty footprint in it. Magnus regrets putting shoes on.

Taako starts putting dishes in a pile, scraping the onions into the singed stir-fry and throwing food scraps in while he goes. Magnus pokes at it with a spatula.

“It still looks pretty good,” he says. If you ignore the blackened parts and the raw onion just hanging out in the pan.

“You can’t eat that, dumbass, you’ll get food poisoning and die,” Taako says, cuffing him over the head and looking startled at himself as he does it. He whisks the pan to another counter and throws a wet rag down on the stovetop. “What the fuck are you doing up, anyway? You’re all, you know?”

Taako gestures at all of him and Magnus really doesn’t know.

“I’m all…?” he asks, taking the rag and beginning to wipe down counters.

“Quit that.” Taako takes the rag from him. “You’re, you know, you’re all squishy and human. You gotta, like, sleep, and eat meat to live, and, and die before you’re a real grown-up boy and shit.”

Sometimes, Magnus wonders if Taako isn’t part human. He has a human day/night schedule, and he thinks the idea of elven superiority is xenophobic bullshit, and his Elvish has an accent Magnus doesn’t think he’s heard from anyone else. He’s just _used_ to humans like most other races aren’t. But as soon as he starts really considering it, every time, Taako says something like this he remembers what he knows about half-elves.

Half elves have a tendency to be charismatic and beautiful, used to negotiating between their conflicting natures and different cultures. They’re nearly always diplomats, if not in profession then in presentation. They know just what to say in nearly any situation—Magnus has seen one talk his way out of a charge of multiple homicides.

Taako is…not a diplomat.

“Are you asking why I couldn’t sleep?” Magnus asks. Taako huffs.

“I just said that, dumbass, pay attention,” he says. He starts running water for dishes.

If Magnus squints, he thinks he might see something next to concern.

“Just one of those night, you know?” he says. He really isn’t sure what stopped him from just rolling over and going back to sleep when Taako snuck out, except that he felt like he needed to do something.

Well, Taako looks more complete with his umbrella tucked up against him, anyway. Last puzzle piece slotted into place. At least something’s come out of his midnight excursion.

Magnus eyes the pan sitting separate from the other dishes on the counter.

“Actually, I was pretty hungry,” he says.

“I told you to eat more for supper, didn’t I? I said I didn’t want to deal with you whining all night about being hungry and what did you say?” Taako scrubs dishes industriously, speaking without venom.

“I wasn’t hungry then, though,” Magnus protests. “And now I’m hungry, and you have food right there! You’re not gonna throw that away, are you?”

Taako scoffs. “Who the fuck do you think I am? Burned or not, you don’t _throw out_ food made by _Taako_.”

Without seeming to realize it, he waves his hand and shimmers stream out of him. Magnus claps politely and Taako gives him a weird look.

“You did a magic thing,” Magnus says, because sometimes Taako doesn’t realize these things. Such as with the counter that they are both dutifully avoiding.

Taako doesn’t say anything, but he tucks his umbrella even closer to him as he washes.

“Actually, couldn’t you use magic to wash—” Magnus starts, but Taako says, “I don’t know magic.”

Well. If he doesn’t know magic, he doesn’t know magic. Magnus recaptures the washcloth and starts scrubbing down surfaces.

“You’re not getting any food out of me,” Taako says, squinting at him like he can see into his soul if he just tries hard enough. Actually, that would be pretty cool. Magnus hums agreeably.

“Can’t I just help my good friend clean up from his secret cooking binge?” he asks innocently, lifting the pan to wipe under it. Taako used some sort of spice in it that smells _delicious_.

Taako drops the last dish in the drying rack.

“Right,” he says, heavy on the skepticism. “Well, I’m gonna eat this now. You can make yourself a sandwich or something.”

Magnus smiles winningly. “Of course! But first, can I have a little taste? Just a bite. It smells really good!”

“No,” says Taako.

“And I feel bad for scaring you earlier—”

“—You didn’t scare me—”

“—and I just want to make sure I didn’t mess up your supper, Taako. You wouldn’t tell your good, best friend he can’t help taste-test your supper, would you?” He gives Taako his very saddest puppy eyes.

“You’re not my—” Taako starts, and then stops, and scowls. His face is a little red. “I don’t even like you.”

His umbrella hits him in the face.

That one was definitely not normal umbrella behavior.

“I don’t! I don’t even care about any of you, even a little! I could leave this moon right now and I wouldn’t care!” he protests. Magnus leans closer and looks even sadder and hungrier.

“In fact, I don’t even care if you eat this food! It’s terrible and I burned it and the onions are raw and it’s oversalted and you’ll probably get food poisoning, but who cares? Not me!” He scowls and crosses his arms over his chest.

The barrier between Magnus and food is gone. While Taako is pouting, he grabs a fork and helps himself to a bean-looking thing right out of the pot.

It tastes like warmth and charred home.

“This is so fucking good Taako, holy shit,” Magnus murmurs, eyes fluttering a little. Taako huffs a breath, but Magnus is busy wolfing down as much as he can.

“It had fucking better, you’re gonna make yourself sick either way fucking inhaling it like that,” he says. He sounds a little strained. “You should, uh, you should maybe slow down a little. It’s meant to be savored?”

“If I get sick for the next _month_ off of this it’s gonna be worth it, holy shit,” Magnus says.

Taako is silent, and he pauses a little to look at him.

“Did you uh, did you want some?” he offers. “Shit, this wasn’t your actual meal, was it? And I just ate like half of it? I’m sorry.”

Taako shakes his head mutely and clutches his umbrella.

“Actually I, uh,” he says, jolting into motion and grabbing a fork of his own, “if you’re gonna—if you’re gonna be chowin’ down on that, I’m, why don’t I get a dose in as well. F-fuckin’, solidarity or some shit.”

Reassured, Magnus grins at him. “Even though it’s burnt up and raw and we’re gonna get food poisoning?”

Taako seems less relieved. He stares at the pan like he’s about to eat raw cabbage.

Oh. It’s like that, then.

Magnus squeezes Taako’s knee and he seems to jolt out of a reverie.

“It’s delicious. It’s got all these, these vegetables and shit, it’s good for you. Nutrients. Right? You made it yourself. Just a nice, light something for two friends in the middle of the night.” He tries to remember how Taako’s eaten today, but he just doesn’t watch what his friends eat, usually. It’s normally not his business. Did he get anything for supper? No, he’d turned up his nose at the uninspired potato something and muttered about not trusting skinny chefs. Magnus had laughed because it was coming out of the mouth of a skinny chef.

Taako glares at him and shovels a forkful of vegetables in his mouth defiantly.

“I don’t fucking—it’s fine. Obviously. Don’t look at me like that.” Magnus nods along and gets a poisonous look for his efforts. Taako swallows before he can possibly have finished chewing and Magnus winces.

“I don’t need your fucking pity,” Taako hisses. “It’s fine. I’m cooking, aren’t I? I’m fine.”

Arguing is probably gonna do more harm than good. Magnus nudges Taako's fork and Taako growls low in his throat, but he continues eating. Magnus does, too, to showcase good behavior.

“This is delicious, Taako!” he says.

“I hope we both get poisoned and die,” Taako says. He seems very concerned about food poisoning.

His umbrella is sitting hooked over his arm and across his lap. Hunched over the pan as he is, he’s almost curled around it. Restraining or protective, Magnus can’t tell.

“I’m not worried,” he says. “I trust you. Hey what’s the spice you added? I don’t think I’ve seen it before, but it tastes really familiar?”

“You’re naive and you’ll get what’s coming to you,” Taako retorts. Magnus shrugs, because he’s heard that one before, and he’s still kicking.

Taako twitches.

His umbrella shuffles.

Magnus keeps eating, and raising his eyebrow at Taako with each bite.

“…might be the curry powder,” Taako mumbles, nibbling at a blackened shoot of something. “’s kinda regional. To the regions with any damn sense, anyway. You’re from the north, right? Northeast? You fuckers just drown everything in salt and call it a day, barely know what a spice is. Makes cooking anything worth eating hard as hell, ‘cause you know someone’s gonna whine about how you’re blowing their damned minds too hard.”

“Yeah? What else is there?” Magnus asks. “What’s the little green stuff here?”

“If you don’t know parsley I am throwing you off this moon,” Taako tells him. “I’m serious. I cannot be seen in public with you. The sideburns were bad enough but you need to know parsley.”

Magnus shrugs and grins unrepentantly. He does know what parsley is, but Taako’s indignant horror makes it worth a little white lie.

“Jesus fuck, okay. Starting on day one here. Have you heard of spices, like at all? As a concept?” Taako eats between words and gestures with his fork, defensiveness dropped in favor of artistry. Early on in his apprenticeship, Stephen had done the same thing for Magnus, pretended he didn't know the difference between cherry wood and mahogany.

“Tasty plants Merle hasn’t fucked,” Magnus offers, and Taako bursts into snorting laughter.

“Okay. Okay, we’ve got something to go on here. It’s not fucking much but I’ll take it. You gotta start with your basics,” Taako says, and for the next four hours until the sun comes up and both of them are too tired to continue, Magnus gets cooking lessons.

They do not end up transmuting the counter or the meat-bowl back, because Taako wants to show him all the ways to make rubs and how to really get them into the meat you’re working with, and how steak and brisket and mystery meat on the road compare in quality and consistency. He’s a demanding teacher, but he’s funny and sometimes wise and always clever, ready to turn Magnus’s disaster concoctions into something tasty and show Magnus how to do it, too.

By the time the sun starts peeking into the windows, there’s a fine dusting of cinnamon over most of the kitchen and nutmeg over Taako himself, and Magnus isn’t even sure what the greenery mashed under his fingernails is, but his sides ache from laughing and even his smile is getting sore. He and Taako duel with broom and mop while they’re cleaning up and really, Taako can claim it was the umbra staff all he wants, but using magic is cheating and it doesn’t count when he wins.

Magnus stops at the door to their dorm and smiles.

“You better not be having a moment, my dude,” Taako warns him, but he pulls him in for a hug.

“Thank you,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve laughed this hard since—since I left home. I didn’t—thank you for sharing with me.”

Taako squirms, and Magnus thinks he’s going to escape for a second before he changes his mind and awkwardly hugs back.

“I, uh.” He squeezes tight. “I wasn’t—doin’ so great, either. Lots of bad—whatever. It’s whatever. I guess it wasn’t so bad schooling you. Been a while since I’ve had, you know, adoring fans’n shit. You’re, uh, pretty okay.”

Well, call the presses. Magnus doesn’t know for sure, but this might be the first time Taako’s ever expressed a positive feeling about…anyone.

“You’re my best friend too,” Magnus says.

“Don’t fucking push it!”

And Taako’s umbrella, squeezed tight between them, is warm.

**Author's Note:**

> Taako's default response to someone telling him to do something he doesn't wanna do is to claim he doesn't know how/can't possibly.
> 
> Lup: Taako check my math on this mad science magic shit  
> Taako: Sorry I don't know math


End file.
